


You Were Born with Goodness

by engagemythrusters



Series: Right Behind You [3]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: COE Fix-it, M/M, Not Miracle Day Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:54:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24031600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/engagemythrusters/pseuds/engagemythrusters
Summary: If either Jack Harkness or Ianto Jones thought their lives would turn out any other way, they were dead wrong.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Series: Right Behind You [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1586635
Comments: 13
Kudos: 112





	You Were Born with Goodness

**Author's Note:**

> I was convinced to do another! It wasn't hard; I missed Ioan like nothing I can even describe, and I always was so disheartened by the fact that I never got to write Ianto with a baby. So, baby and Ianto and Jack! Hope that's alright with everyone...

They drove in the car silently. Until Jack hit a bump in the road. That loosened Ianto’s tongue, it seemed, because the burning question that he’d had since he’d entered the car escaped from his lips, unbidden and unplanned.

“Think they’ll come after us?”

“Why should they?” Jack scoffed. “Nobody died. Only one person was hurt. They’re fine now.”

“Seven houses fell into the Rift, Jack.”

“Alright, so we lost a negligible part of Wales to the Rift. But then we closed it.”

“There is no negligible part of Wales!”

“There is to me,” Jack said. “There is if it means getting you back.” 

Ianto glanced over to Jack. Jack didn’t look back. His hands curled into fists around the steering wheel, knuckles white and tense. Ianto reached out, probably to gently place his hand over one of them. He wasn’t sure what his subconscious was doing. Thankfully, his brain caught on fast, and he diverted his hand’s course to the stereo, instead. Jack saw through it, though. Of course he would. Ianto liked a quiet drive, and Jack would know that. He grabbed Ianto’s hand, holding onto it like a lifeline.

They drove silently again. Ianto watched the greenery fly by outside, his thumb brushing absentmindedly over Jack’s knuckles.

They hit another bump, and another thought occurred to Ianto. He turned in his seat to frown at Jack.

“Hang on.”

“What?” Jack asked, looking at him.

“You were really willing to throw yourself to the Rift? While you were _pregnant?”_

Jack cringed. Ianto glared.

* * *

Jack sipped his tea. What he really wanted was coffee, but Ianto was strictly against that. “Coffee was bad for unborn babies” and all that nonsense. And also, the coffee machine was currently packed away and on its move to the new house. The sofa was the only piece of furniture left in Ianto’s old flat, and that was because Jack was sitting on it.

“This isn’t happening,” Rhiannon Davies said.

“You can’t debate this!” Ianto said for the third time today. “This _is_ happening. Look at him.”

Jack waved a hand to Rhiannon as she gawped at him. She turned back to Ianto.

“But you were _dead_.”

Ianto sighed. “We’re going in circles. It was a mistake, Rhiannon! I told you. The thing with the kids? They had to—”

“Stop it with your ridiculous ‘placed under protection, gone into hiding’ bullshit. I buried you!”

“Oh, isn’t this a lovely thing to show up to?”

Jack turned as best as he could. Gwen Cooper waddled through the door, her husband following behind, looking tired.

“Are you even supposed to be up and walking?” Jack asked Gwen and her very large pregnant belly.

“I can move as I bloody choose to,” she said, though she had to have Rhys lower her onto the sofa.

“I tried to stop her,” Rhys said sourly, “but when she learned I was moving you two—”

“You didn’t tell me you bought the house with the salmon walls,” she accused.

“They’re hideous walls,” Jack said.

“They really are.”

“Should paint them a nice blue,” Rhys said.

Jack considered it, ignoring as Rhiannon and Ianto’s bickering increased in volume in the background.

* * *

“I _am_ calling Martha!”

“Call faster!” Jack shouted.

“I can’t! That’s not how phone calls work!”

Jack let out an unintelligible yell of pain. Ianto winced, fearful for both his ears and the ears of their unborn child.

“Ianto Jones!” Martha sang out cheerfully when she picked up. “What can I do for—”

“Jack’s in labour,” Ianto hurried out. “We’re in London, but—”

Jack screamed again.

“If you don’t get this thing out of me, it’s coming out all Alien-style!”

“I’m surprised he knows what Alien is,” Martha joked through the phone.

“Should I be worried?”

“Nope. Every pregnant person goes through contractions at the end. He’ll get over it. I’ll meet you at my mum’s, alright?”

“How long?” Ianto asked, trying not to sound concerned.

“Fifteen minutes. You?”

He checked the roads, judging the traffic. “Maybe ten?”

“Perfect.”

Jack let out another blood-curdling cry. Ianto gunned it.

* * *

Ianto was holding the baby again, staring down at it intently. He’d finally lost the terrified look, but only after twenty-four hours of Jack telling him repeatedly that he would be an alright father. Ianto obviously still didn’t believe this to be true, but he’d stepped down from I-will-fail to a more neutral I-hope-I’m-not-shit. Which was definitely an improvement, in Jack's opinion. They’d slowly work on the rest. Jack still had his own demons to wrangle there, too.

Jack sat down next to Ianto. The baby wriggled and squirmed, then settled down again.

“James,” Ianto said.

“James Jones doesn’t work,” Jack replied automatically.

“Why can’t he be James Harkness?”

“He looks like you,” Jack pointed out. “Not me. He should be a Jones.”

“He doesn’t look like me.”

“He looks exactly like you.” Jack leant over, brushing a finger gently over the baby’s nose. “Same nose.”

“How do you know that? He’s a _baby_.”

Jack ignored that. “I think it should be Welsh. Gareth.”

“No.”

“Dylan.”

Ianto pulled a face.

“Thought so.” Jack ran through more names in his head. None fit. He tried names closer to Ianto’s. If the boy looked like Ianto… “You’ll say no to Ifan, won’t you?”

“Yes,” Ianto said without a second’s hesitation.

“Idris.”

“Absolutely not.”

Jack ran through more names starting with ‘I,’ but nothing was appealing. Until he had the perfect thought.

“You can’t say no to this one,” Jack warned him.

“You don’t get to—”

“What about ‘Ioan?’” Jack asked, cutting over him.

Ianto opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked down at the baby in his hands. The baby flailed an arm, trying to figure out his tiny little body.

“Alright,” Ianto said measuredly.

Jack beamed. “Ioan Jones.”

“Ioan Harkness.”

“Ioan _Jones,_ ” Jack repeated, not willing to be beaten down. “And that’s final.”

Ianto sighed.

* * *

As the dangers of sleeping with a baby in bed were vast and not to be ignored, Ioan slept in a small bassinet attachment to the bed. Ianto was respectful of Jack’s culture—he knew it was customary for entire families to sleep together on Boeshane. And he did suppose it made late-night feedings and changes a little easier when the baby was right there next to them.

This bout of insomnia was all thanks to a soggy bottom. It had been Jack’s turn to change Ioan, so Ianto was groggily lying in bed, his eyes constantly point two seconds from snapping shut.

Jack was pacing around the room and trying to soothe Ioan. Ianto watched him go, round and round, following the same path every time.

“Wait,” Ianto mumbled after a moment. “Are you singing?”

“Have been for a while,” Jack whispered.

“Oh.”

“Go back to sleep.”

Ianto shook his head.

“It won’t help if you’re so blindly tired that you can’t feed him when he wakes up again,” Jack said.

Ianto groaned. “When do babies start sleeping through the night?”

“Evidently,” Jack said quietly, though a little bitterly, “it varies.”

“If I have to wait yet another three months for sleep, I will…” Ianto didn’t know what he’d do. Something. He'd do something.

Jack altered his course, bringing himself and the baby to the bed. He bent down and kissed Ianto’s head.

“Go back to sleep,” Jack repeated.

Then he resumed his pacing, picking his song back up again. It was a vaguely familiar tune to Ianto, and it sounded lovely in Jack’s sombre baritone.

Ianto was back to sleep before he even knew it.

* * *

Ioan’s hands slapped down on the highchair tray, sending a few yoghurt drops flying. Ianto held back a sigh.

“You’re supposed to be eating these,” he reminded the boy. “In your mouth.”

Ioan burbled a few notes and swiped his hands across the tray. Ianto caught three of the yoghurt drops before they fell, but a fourth tumbled to the floor. He set the recovered drops on the tray.

“Eat.” He mimed putting a yoghurt drop in his mouth. “Like that.”

Even still Ioan was far more interested in being a drummer, back to smacking his hands on the tray.

“Come on,” Ianto said. “You’re nine months. Use your head.”

He picked up a drop and held it to Ioan’s mouth. Ioan twisted his head away, unwilling. Ianto didn’t relent, and eventually, Ioan forgot he was protesting the drop long enough that he opened his mouth. Ianto pushed the drop inside. Ioan’s face twisted up in disgust.

“What? They’re blueberry. You like blueberry, remember?”

Ioan stuck his hand inside of his mouth in an attempt to dig the drop out. Ianto let out a disgusted sigh as blueberry saliva dribbled down Ioan’s chin.

“You are making a giant mess.”

Ioan hummed around his fist. More blueberry goop spilled onto his chin.

“You _are_ a giant mess,” Ianto amended.

He hooked a finger around Ioan’s tiny wrist and tugged the hand out of his mouth.

“Let’s try this again,” he said.

When Ioan accepted the yoghurt drop without fuss, Ianto stared at him.

“Well, what was wrong with the other one?” he demanded.

Ioan just chewed on his drop.

* * *

Jack dropped his keys into his pocket, then slipped his coat off and hung it on the coat rack. He tilted his head, letting his neck pop. There. That was better.

His boots clunked against each other when he dropped them on the mat. Jesus, when had he started putting his boots on the mat and his coat on the rack?

He shook his head, making his way to the kitchen.

A shriek had him changing his direction instantly, dashing towards the sitting room.

He stopped instantly when he reached the room, confusion overtaking alarm.

Ianto was lying on his side, head propped up by an arm. Ioan sat a few feet away from him, clapping his hands excitedly. Trying to clap, anyway. Half of the time, his hands missed each other.

“Well, do it again, then,” Ianto told Ioan. “Go on.”

He held out the hand not holding his head up, and Ioan scooted himself closer on his bum.

“Come on, now,” Ianto said, disapproving. “That’s not what you did before.”

Ioan scooted another inch closer. Then he pitched forward onto his hands.

Okay, crawling wasn’t new. Crawling was discovered almost two months ago. And standing, while a more recent development, was no longer cool and exciting. Old hat, by now.

But taking those one, two, three, four, _five_ steps to Ianto? Definitely new.

“He did that _before_?” Jack demanded.

Ianto glanced up at Jack and Ioan, startled, fell back down to his bum with a thud.

“Twice,” Ianto said, sitting up. “Though five steps was by far his longest.”

Jack frowned. “I missed it.”

“No,” Ianto said. He tugged his mobile out of his pocket. “I filmed it.”

He tossed the mobile at Jack, who caught it deftly. He looked down at the blank screen as Ianto pulled Ioan into a standing position again.

“I still missed it,” Jack said, disappointed in a way he couldn’t even begin to explain.

“Well, get down here.”

Jack frowned but obeyed, sitting down on the spot Ianto pointed at. Ioan shrieked happily once more, making grabbing fists at his other father.

“Go on,” Ianto told him. “Go get him.”

Then he set Ioan loose, and Ioan did his best to stumble over to Jack.

* * *

Jack’s level of panic kept rising and falling in waves. Or tides. Except there was no moon tugging it up and pushing it down. If only. No, it was just watching his tiny little child sleep in the hospital bed, hooked up to monitors and oxygen.

Beside him, Ianto was sitting, completely still and stony, save for the bouncing leg.

“I’m sorry,” Jack said softly.

Ianto looked sharply over to him. “What for?”

“I think…” Jack swallowed thickly and gestured to Ioan. “This has to be my fault.”

“Your fault?”

“Maybe my genes weren’t supposed to mix with yours,” Jack said.

Ianto’s expression turned to hurt in a flash.

“Not like that,” Jack amended. “I just mean… fifty-first century genes and twenty-first century genes… maybe I condemned him to… I don’t know.”

“That wouldn’t be you,” Ianto said. “It couldn’t be. You’re… you.”

The way he said it made it sound synonymous to “perfect,” which very clearly wasn’t the case.

“And the fifty-first century is ahead,” Ianto said. “So, if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s… I’m the one behind.”

“This isn’t _your_ fault.”

“Well, it certainly isn’t yours,” Ianto retorted.

They sat there a short while in silence.

“I believe this is what they call an impasse,” Ianto said, tone gentler. “If it isn’t your fault—”

“And it isn’t yours, either,” Jack said.

“—then I guess… it’s just… neither of us,” Ianto finished.

Jack surveyed him a moment, then nodded.

“Alright.”

And then Ianto returned to his zoned-out state.

Jack, for lack of anything else to do, turned his attention to the plush duck a nurse had gifted Ioan. He held the plush up and studied it. It was pretty cute, he had to admit.

He nudged Ianto with an elbow. When Ianto turned to him with a frown, he held up the duck, grinning.

“Looks like a Daisy, do you think?”

Ianto blinked.

“I think,” he said slowly, “you’re a sap.”

“That isn’t a no.”

Ianto rolled his eyes. That still wasn’t a no…

* * *

“Come on,” he sighed. “Anwen’s got two words down already. Just say ‘Dad.’ Or ‘Daddy.’ Or even ‘Daisy.’”

At the sound of his beloved duck’s name, Ioan reached out with a grabbing fist.

“Not until you say it,” Ianto told him.

Ioan just grabbed harder, emitting an upset whine.

“Say it.”

“Don’t tease him.”

Francine reached down, swooping Ioan up into her arms. Ioan looked conflicted for a moment, trying to decide if he wanted to stay with Francine or get his Daisy. Francine held out a hand. Ianto bit down another sigh and handed her the plush duck.

“There,” Francine said as she handed Daisy to Ioan. “All better.”

Ianto got up from the floor, retreating to the sofa next to Tish.

“She was like that with Annalise, too,” Tish muttered to him. “Don’t worry too much. You’ll grow on her.”

Ianto knew his standing with Francine Jones wasn’t all that high. He knew he was only accepted by default as the father of her adopted grandchild and the partner of her… whatever her relationship with Jack was. She was harsh on him sometimes, but he did understand it was due to her loyalty to her family, blood-related or not. Anyway, he’d rather be slowly and begrudgingly accepted than hated altogether.

“Nanna loves you,” Francine told Ioan, swiping a curl from his forehead.

Ioan chewed on Daisy’s beak instead of responding.

“Come on, darling boy,” Francine cooed. “What can you say?”

Nothing, evidently. Ioan was far more interested in Daisy than the pointless words of people ten times the size of him.

Ianto watched Francine bounce Ioan around and decided right then and there that if Ioan said “Nanna” before he said “Dad,” he was moving back into the Rift. Permanently.

* * *

Ioan’s little snowsuit was so puffy that he could barely put his arms down to his sides. And he waddled everywhere he went. Ianto always mumbled under his breath about what a disgrace the thing was, but Jack thought it was pretty damn cute.

He crouched down. There was hardly any snow blanketing the ground. One swipe of his hand and he could unearth the dead grass.

Ioan let out a note of distress. Jack looked over to him. The kid had turned himself the wrong way, and the puffy hood of his snowsuit obstructed his view of Jack.

“I’m right here,” he called to Ioan. “Right behind you.”

Ioan shuffled around as best as he could. Then he laughed as Jack pulled a face.

“C’mere, kiddo,” Jack said.

He held his arms out and Ioan trundled over to him. Jack picked him up, kissing his cheek.

“You’re supposed to be helping me in the Archives.”

Jack turned around to see Ianto frowning at the pair of them. He grinned.

“I wanted him to see the snow.”

Ioan leant away from Jack, holding his arms out to Ianto. Ianto took Ioan, adjusting the child onto his hip.

“Archives, then snow,” Ianto said, mostly to Ioan.

“Do we have to?” Jack mock whined.

Ianto rolled his eyes. “If you want to tromp around the snow looking like an idiot, that’s fine by me. Ioan, on the other hand, is going to come be helpful. Right?”

Ioan glanced up at Ianto.

“Right,” Ianto said for him. Then he glowered at Jack. “If the seventeen-month-old can help, you can too.”

“Can’t you just say one and a half like a normal person?”

“He isn’t one and a half,” Ianto said, already turning and heading back to Torchwood House. “He’s seventeen months.”

It was Jack’s turn to roll his eyes.

* * *

“It’s a fair offer,” Jack said, for what felt like the millionth time.

As always, Ianto’s response was a sharp, “No.”

Jack sighed. “Just think on it for a moment. Please?”

Ianto flicked on the indicators and made a right turn.

“I thought on it,” he said when he’d completed the turn. “The answer is still no.”

Jack took a deep breath in, willing himself some patience.

“You have to admit,” he said, as calmly as possible, “that it beats sitting in the house.”

“I’d still be sitting in the house,” Ianto reminded him.

Jack made an effort not to say, “but I wouldn’t be,” because it wouldn’t help his case.

“You’d be working,” Jack said.

“On a computer. Doing something I’d much rather do in person.”

Jack didn’t think cataloguing artefacts on a computer was much different than working in a dusty archive somewhere.

“Meanwhile, you’ll be off doing god knows what, coming home god knows when, and getting yourself in trouble all of the time.”

“I won’t,” Jack promised.

Ianto shot him a look.

“I can stay out of trouble, you know.”

With a scoff, Ianto stepped on the brakes. The car jolted to a halt, Ianto already tugging out the keys and unbuckling. Jack unclicked his own seatbelt, albeit without as much fire, and stepped out of the car.

“Oh, wonderful,” Francine said when she opened the door to see them. “Just in time.”

“Dinner still on, then?” Ianto asked.

“Yes. And soon, because someone’s turning into a monster.”

Jack took Ioan from Francine’s arms.

“Are you being a twerp for your Nanna?” he asked.

They had dinner with Tish and Francine, and Francine boasted about their trip to the zoo. Jack and Ianto both paid attention marginally, as most of the evening was spent in silent communication with each other. Ianto conveyed his fear that Jack wouldn’t return, and Jack expressed his worry that Ianto was getting bored in the house, all through a series of looks.

“They said I’d never be gone more than a week,” Jack said as they drove home.

“Fine,” Ianto said after a long pause. “If you’re gone for any longer…”

Ianto let the threat dangle in the air, and Jack knew UNIT would suddenly find themselves in a world of hurt if Ianto had to ever finish that threat.

* * *

Ioan climbed down from Jack’s lap and dashed across the room. Ianto helped him up, and Ioan took his Daisy from Ianto. He tucked one of Ioan’s curls behind his ear and bent down to kiss his head. Ioan looked up at him, then back down at Daisy.

Jack was asking follow-up question after follow-up question. Ianto had tuned it out a while ago. He had learned what he needed. Instead, he watched Ioan play with his Daisy, the misery of his examinations already forgiven and forgotten.

Mild hearing loss. Well.

Ianto re-tucked the curl behind Ioan’s ear, as it had sprung free. Dr Martin and Jack were discussing hearing aids. He vaguely wondered if that would help keep the curls out of Ioan’s ears.

Maybe Ioan just needed a haircut.

“Your hair _is_ getting long,” he murmured.

He pulled a curl out to its full length. Oh. That was longer that he’d expected. Where the hell did Ioan get that hair from, anyway? It wasn’t Ianto’s. His had been far less curly at that age. Was this Jack’s? But Jack’s hair was straight… or, at least, it was now…

Ianto blinked as Jack stepped in front of him, holding out Ioan’s coat.

“You know,” Dr Martin said behind Jack, “some parents start crying.”

“I don’t think this warrants crying,” Jack said. “It’s different, not the end of the world.”

“I’ll hold Daisy so you can put your coat on,” Ianto told Ioan, ignoring the adults. “Okay?”

Then he plucked the duck from Ioan’s hands so that Jack could stuff the coat over Ioan’s arms. Ioan pouted as Jack hoisted him up, scowling at Ianto until Daisy was safely back in his hands.

“Hm,” Jack said as they walked to the car.

“What?” Ianto asked.

“Well,” Jack said, “how do you get a two-year-old to decide on the colour of his own hearing aids? His favourite colours are all of them.”

Ianto looked at Ioan.

“Red,” he said after a moment.

Jack glared at him. “Blue.”

Ianto narrowed his eyes, and that was how their longest ongoing argument started.

* * *

“Ioan, no!”

Jack looked up from his eggs fast enough to catch Ioan snagging his hearing aid yet another time. Dropping his fork, he lunged across the table as Ioan made to throw it across the room. Thankfully, Ioan’s toss had been a weak one, and Jack nabbed the device before it hit the floor. He fell out of his chair though, crashing down hard on his shoulder.

“Are you alright?” Ianto asked.

Jack sat up on the floor, rolling his shoulder back and forth.

“The worst that’ll happen is a bruise,” Jack dismissed.

He opened his hand and studied the hearing aid. Still intact.

“Saved it,” he said, holding it up for Ianto to see.

“How long until he stops pulling those off?” Ianto sighed as Jack stood.

“He’ll get bored eventually. Probably.” Jack frowned. “Hopefully.”

Then he pushed back Ioan’s curls and inserted the earmould back into Ioan’s ear. Ioan whined.

“You, mister,” Ianto addressed the boy as Jack fixed the hearing aid, “need to leave those in. They are not toys.”

Ioan pouted.

“Not toys,” Ianto repeated.

Jack glanced over to him. One hand was on his hip and the other was pointing an accusatory finger at Ioan, and a scolding frown adorned his face.

“Maybe we should get one of those—”

“No,” Ianto said automatically. “The hearing aids are already blue. That’s ungodly enough.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest a headband,” Jack said, even though he had been about to do exactly that.

“It wouldn’t look good with his hair,” Ianto said.

Jack ruffled Ioan’s hair. Ioan turned and pouted up at him, instead. Jack just grinned back. Cute kid.

* * *

Ianto bundled his coat tighter around himself and watched as Jack pushed the child’s swing higher. Ioan squealed with glee.

“There’s Weevils in this park,” he grumped.

“I know,” Jack said tetchily, clearly not pleased to be returning to this conversation yet again.

“Should’ve gone to Roath Park.”

“We do go to Roath Park,” Jack said. “All the time. I figured coming here would be a nice change of pace. Besides, there’s two of us. One parent takes the Weevil, and… you take Ioan.”

Ianto knew why that was phrased the way that was phrased. And he hated it.

“I’m not sacrificing you to a Weevil.”

“Well, between you and me, I come back faster.”

“Not funny.”

“Nooooooooo,” Ioan moaned as his swing slowed down.

Jack sighed as he pushed the swing again. “Word number four…”

“Martha said he’ll talk when he wants to,” Ianto said.

“Four words, Ianto. He has _four words.”_

“For now,” Ianto said. “He’s smart. He just doesn’t need any more words at the moment.”

“You’re just saying that because his first was ‘Dad.’”

“No, his first was ‘no,’” Ianto reminded him.

“No!” Ioan parroted sweetly.

“Come on, you can’t pretend you’re not worried,” Jack said. “You compared him to Anwen all the time!”

“Yeah, before I knew he was just taking his time.” Ianto folded his arms. _“I_ took _my_ time. And did I turn out horribly?”

Jack squinted at him. Then a devilish grin split across his face.

“Well—”

“Shut up,” Ianto said, glaring at him.

* * *

Ianto didn’t like the beach. He didn’t like that they were at the beach. He didn’t like that his son _wanted_ to be at the beach. And he really didn’t like that Jack had evidently been sneaking Ioan off to go swimming behind his back.

Absolutely none of this was ideal.

He watched Jack and Ioan return from the water. Ioan’s tiny hand clung onto Jack’s as his short legs kicked up sand. Ianto almost smiled.

“Come on,” Jack said as they reached Ianto. “The water isn’t so bad, once you get used to it!”

“No,” Ianto said.

“Why not?” Jack asked.

“You know I have drowning dreams.” Ianto looked away from Jack, helping Ioan sit down on the large beach towel.

Jack sat down beside them. Ianto ignored him for a moment. He didn’t want to talk about it. He took out a smaller towel and began drying Ioan off with it.

“I’m sorry,” Jack said eventually.

Ianto didn’t know which thing he was apologising for.

“Just make sure he can swim before you let go, alright?”

“I’m not going to let him sink,” Jack said.

Ianto withheld a shudder. Hearing that made him think about it. And thinking about it was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Ready to eat?” Ianto asked Ioan.

Ioan nodded.

“Okay, then, give me your hands,” Ianto said, taking Ioan’s tiny hands in his. “We need to clean them first.”

After sanitising Ioan’s hands, Ianto gave him a quarter of a sandwich. Ioan tucked into it instantly, wolfing it down.

“Slow down,” Jack told him. “You can’t go swimming again if you make yourself sick.”

“Swimmen!” Ioan cried eagerly.

“Eating nicely first,” Jack said. “Then swimming.”

Ianto sighed.

* * *

Jack hung up, stunned.

“Martha’s on a—”

“Whoa!” Ianto cried.

He lurched forward, practically shoving Ioan to the toilet. Ioan heaved pathetically, vomiting up the rest of his insides. Ianto just held him there all the while, looking a mixture of horrified and concerned.

The moment Ioan stopped upchucking, he started crying. Bawling, more like. It was louder and harder than his earlier sobs. Ianto gently swiped a wad of paper over his lips. When he had finished with that, he leant back again, snuggling Ioan back up to his chest. The pair of them would need baths, Jack supposed.

Jack scooted behind the both of them, holding Ianto as he held Ioan. Jack reached a hand around and placed it in Ioan’s hair, giving him something that was half a head massage and half a comforting pat on the head. 

Eventually, Ioan’s thunderous tears turned into just sniffs and hiccups and trembles.

“Let’s give you a bath,” Jack said.

“Wanna go ‘t bed,” Ioan cried, his tears threatening to return.

“I know,” Jack said sympathetically, stroking a hand through those curls. “But you’re all yucky. You need a bath.”

“I’ll make it extra warm,” Ianto promised. “And we can get all your bath duckies out.”

Ioan unburied his head from Ianto’s chest. “Bubbos?”

“With all the bubbles in the world.”

“Yotta bubbos,” Ioan whispered.

“I know,” Ianto whispered back, though loudly enough for Ioan to hear. “You’ll have the longest bubble beard.”

Ioan’s mood and colour improved in the bath—he no longer looked drained. Well, he did, but that was from sheer exhaustion rather than post-vomit lethargy. He was out like a light in Ianto’s arms as Ianto held him in bed.

“What were you saying about Martha?” Ianto asked quietly.

Jack frowned in the darkness. “Huh?”

“Before, when you ended the call. You said Martha was on… what?”

“A date,” Jack said, adding conspiracy to his tone.

“Oh. Must be with Mickey, then.”

Jack’s mouth fell open. _“What?”_

“She’s dating Mickey. Didn’t you know?”

“No! How did you?”

“Shush,” was all Ianto would say. “You’ll wake Ioan.”

* * *

Jack’s fingers trailed across Ianto’s bare shoulders. Ianto dozed peacefully, unbothered by Jack’s mildly intrusive admiration of his body. Jack leant over and kissed the spot that connected Ianto’s neck and back. Ianto grunted. Jack kissed him again, then rolled off the bed.

In the bathroom, he relieved himself and then brushed his teeth. They’d had a _long_ night last night, and a very good one at that, but Jack’s breath was disgusting now. Ianto, whenever he woke up, deserved a minty-fresh kiss. While Jack would receive quite the opposite, the least he could do was not disgust Ianto right away in the morning.

Jack returned to the bedroom, slipping himself back into bed. He lifted Ianto’s arm and placed it over his chest. Ianto grunted again. Then he took in a deep breath through his nose and raised his head, eyes barely open. Jack adored the imprinted pillowcase creases on his cheek.

As he’d planned, Jack leant in to kiss him.

“’dj g‘m?” Ianto slurred blearily.

Jack pulled back, frowning at him. Ianto just squinted tiredly at him.

“What?” Jack asked when he couldn’t make heads nor tails of it.

“Ioan,” Ianto mumbled, dropping his head back onto the pillow.

 _Oh_. “Did you get him?” made much more sense than… whatever garbled nonsense Ianto had spewed out. He chuckled to himself, watching Ianto yawn into the pillow.

Then he froze.

“I… did not get Ioan…” he said.

“Go get ‘m.”

A moment of silence passed.

“Wait, what?” Ianto shot straight up in bed, glancing over to the clock. “Jack! You were supposed to get him an hour ago!”

“I know…” Jack cringed. “Sorry…”

“Come on!”

There was a mad scramble to throw on a random assortment of clothes. Ianto forwent brushing his teeth and both of them ate nothing as they dashed to the car. Jack may have speeded, and Ianto may not have chided him on it for once.

Gwen looked absolutely furious when she opened the door. Jack gave her a sheepish smile in reply. Ianto just tried to look awake.

“He’s waiting,” she said, gesturing inside.

Jack and Ianto followed her to the small dining room, where Ioan was sitting on a chair, hands politely folded in his lap. His face split into a smile the moment he saw Jack and Ianto.

“Daddy! Dad!”

He jumped down from the chair and raced to them, and Jack dropped to a crouch to catch him in his arms. Jack stood, holding Ioan close to him, promising to himself that he did _not_ forget his son. He _didn’t_. He just was distracted by the kid’s father, looking so tranquil and lovely as he slept.

After a minute or so, Ioan stopped hugging Jack and reached for Ianto. Ianto, evidently no longer coherent after the adrenaline had worn off, just took Ioan and hugged him close, placing his cheek on Ioan’s curls as Ioan clung tightly to him.

“Sorry,” Jack told Gwen as he ushered the pair of them back to the car. “We’ll make it up to you.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Gwen said, though she still sounded and looked rather peeved. “Just… call next time, yeah?”

Jack kissed her cheek as a final apology, then took his sleepy family home.

* * *

“Daaaaaaaaaad,” Ioan intoned.

“What?” Ianto asked, deleting the line he just wrote.

“Caaan I goooo…”

Ianto looked away from his laptop and down at Ioan. “Go where?”

Ioan gently patted Ianto’s leg. Ianto sighed, then hoisted Ioan up on his lap.

“Where’s Daddy?” Ioan asked, placing Daisy on Ianto’s keyboard.

“Working.” Ianto slid Daisy to the side.

Ioan let out a gusty exhale, slumping over.

“I know,” Ianto said, feeling sympathetic. “But he always comes back, remember?”

“You workin’ here,” Ioan grumbled. “Daddy can work here.”

“He can’t.”

_“Can!”_

“Ioan,” Ianto warned.

Ioan pouted, putting his face in his hands and resting his elbows on the table.

“I know you miss Daddy,” Ianto said, “but yelling won’t change anything.”

Ioan hmphed.

“Tell you what,” Ianto said. “Why don’t you go put in a film? That way, you’re distracted, and I can get my work done for today.”

“Wanna sit wif you,” Ioan said petulantly.

“More than you want to watch a film? Or cartoons?”

Ioan nodded, his curls brushing up and down against Ianto’s chest as he did so. Ianto frowned. He wasn’t exactly sure how to deal with this. Sure, Ioan was a clingy little fellow, but never to the point where he wouldn’t allow himself to be distracted by his favourite movies or cartoons.

“Ioan, I have to get my work done.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s my job.”

“Why?”

“Because…” Ianto brought a hand to his face, withholding a sigh. “Ioan. You need to let me work.”

“Don’t wanna yeave you.”

“You won’t yea— _leave_ me.” God, sometimes he worried Ioan made too much of an impression on him. “I’ll be right here, in this room. That’s not far.”

_“No.”_

And Ianto had two choices. Send Ioan away to watch the cartoons and have an upset child on his hands or call Brigadier Tate and tell her that the work will have to wait until tomorrow.

“Ioan…”

Ioan just pressed himself closer to Ianto.

With a final sigh, Ianto reached for his mobile.

* * *

Nothing would be more hilarious to Jack than the fact that, despite having a child himself, Ianto didn’t know what to do with babies. Jack supposed it had been a good three (almost four, now) years since Ioan had been that tiny, but it was still hilarious to watch Ioan hold Gwen’s newest in his hands while looking more awkward than he’d ever been in his life.

He ran a hand through Ioan’s curls, watching Anwen sit herself practically on Ianto’s lap as she tried to get a better look at her baby brother.

“Have a name yet?” Jack asked Gwen.

“Can’t decide between Evan, Bran, or Geraint,” Gwen said.

“I like Alun,” Rhys said.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw Ianto tense. Jack glanced over towards him, and Ianto stared back in stunned silence. Jack figured that if this baby ended up with the same name as a certain father, neither of them would be seeing the child again.

Hurriedly, Jack helped Gwen and Rhys steer towards a less offensive name. The child ended up as Evan Williams.

Not long after the name was decided, Evan began to scream. Ianto, Jack, and Ioan all had to leave so that Gwen could feed the baby.

“I didn’t even get to hold him,” Jack said.

“You could’ve taken him from me at any given point,” Ianto groused.

“Well, then I wouldn’t have gotten to see you holding a baby.”

Ianto rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t getta hold him,” Ioan said, pouting.

“You’re too small,” Ianto said automatically.

“But I wanna hold da baby.”

Jack looked at Ianto.

“No,” Ianto said the moment Jack opened his mouth. “Absolutely not.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say,” Jack said.

“Ioan said he didn’t want a sibling.”

“Wanna _hold da baby,”_ Ioan said.

“Next time, kiddo,” Jack told him. “I’ll help you hold him.”

Ioan did a tiny fist pump. Jack smiled, knowing exactly which parent he’d copied that action from.

* * *

“Iiiissssssssss… Nanna comin’?”

“Yes,” Ianto said, wiping off the table a final time.

“Iiiiiiiissssss… Aunt Marfa comin’?”

“Yep.” Ianto threw the rag in the sink.

“Iiiiiissss… Aunt Tish comin’?”

“Mhm.”

“Iiiiiissss… Aunt Gwen comin’?”

Ianto sighed. “Aunt Gwen is coming. And Uncle Rhys, Anwen, and Baby Evan. Aunt Rhiannon said maybe.”

“Hmm,” Ioan said.

He tilted his head one way, then the other. Ianto waited expectantly.

“Are we gettin’ pizza?”

“I know for a fact you just asked Daddy about that,” Ianto said.

“He said dat you yike pizza.”

“Did he?”

“Yeeessss,” Ioan said.

He stood on one foot, then switched, hopping back and forth between them. Ianto tried, and failed, to remember a time when he was that full of energy. Or that sort of energy, at least. That antsy, foot-hopping excitement.

“Do you yike it?” Ioan asked.

“I suppose,” Ianto said.

“Den… why don’t we have it every day?”

“Because then you’d hate it,” Ianto said.

“No,” Ioan said, putting his hands on his hips. “I’d yike it awways.”

Ianto turned to the sink, rolling his eyes privately as he went.

“Aunt Marfa yikes pizza.”

“Did Aunt Martha tell you that?”

“No, but I know.”

“I see,” Ianto said, shaking his head to himself.

“Gonna sit wif Aunt Marfa.”

Ianto peered back over his shoulder at his son. “I thought you were going to sit with Nanna.”

“I can sit wif bof,” Ioan said defiantly. “I have two sides!”

“I thought you were going to sit with me?”

Ianto turned back around and frowned at Jack. Ioan did the same, his hands on his hips.

“Yeah, but now I’m not gonna,” Ioan said. “Gonna sit wif Aunt Marfa and Nanna.”

“Why?” Jack asked.

Ioan shrugged his tiny shoulders. “Because.”

Then he dashed away, off to do god only knew what.

“How long until the three-year-old sass leaves?” Ianto sighed.

“Well,” Jack said, “as it hasn’t quite left a certain near-thirty-year-old, I’d say it’s going to be a while.”

Ianto glowered at him.

* * *

They very rarely went down to the Plass. Jack didn’t know why. Ianto didn’t seem to know why, either. Jack assumed it was a silent agreement they’d accidentally made, sometime in the forgotten past when they had driven by and never stopped.

No Torchwood. No Plass.

Jack had mixed feelings on the issue. On one hand, Torchwood and the Roald Dahl Plass was a closed chapter of their lives. On the other, it had also been a significant chapter, one that covered the main bulk of Jack’s long life and revolved around the larger points of Ianto’s fluctuating life. But, back on that first hand, Ioan was a child, and shouldn’t be anywhere near Torchwood. Then again, Torchwood was long gone, and this place was now just a concrete wasteland. Nothing dwelled beneath their feet now.

Between them, holding one hand each, Ioan walked eagerly. He had a newfound favourite habit of jumping each pavement crack, which Jack thought was absolutely adorable. He wondered if Ianto had ever done something similar. He didn’t have the guts to ask, though.

The sky was overcast, but the drizzle had stopped. Ianto was clearly not pleased about the forecast for his birthday, but he held it all in with only the occasional resigned sigh as he looked upwards.

“Can we go swimmin’?” Ioan asked.

“No,” Ianto said without a beat of hesitation.

Jack likewise clung tighter to Ioan’s hand.

“Why not?” Ioan asked.

“Because…” Jack looked to Ianto.

Because there were things that lived in the waters of the bay. Because bad things have happened near that bay. Because Jack was terrified to let him anywhere near that particular stretch of water. Because Ianto was terrified to let him anywhere near any water.

“It’s not safe,” Ianto finished for Jack.

“Why not?” Ioan demanded again.

“Yucky water,” Ianto said.

“Oh, ewwww,” Ioan said, scrunching up his face.

Jack looked off into the distance and watched someone walk over where the invisible lift used to be. He didn’t know if the perception filter still existed. He didn’t want to know.

Maybe it was for the best that they rarely came here.

* * *

Ianto and Ioan ate breakfast by themselves that morning. Jack had gone wherever Jack had gone, and so the two of them had made their way to the kitchens. The kitchen staff offered up a nice breakfast, which Ioan was still trying to eat with a fork far too large for his child hands. Ianto was still trying to decide if this coffee was good enough or if he should discreetly throw it out and make his own.

“Dad?”

Ianto away from his mug, over to Ioan. The kid had speared a bit of toast on his fork and was dipping it in jam. Ianto stared at the oddity of that for a moment (because, _really_ , who ate toast like that?), then shook himself.

“What?” he asked.

“Do you have coffee?” Ioan asked.

“Yes,” Ianto said slowly. “Why?”

“Can I have some?”

Ianto blinked at Ioan. Then he looked down at his coffee.

Hm.

With a shrug, he set the mug down in front of Ioan, who eagerly grabbed it with both hands.

“Whoa, hey!”

Jack came storming up from behind Ioan, snatching the mug from his small hands before he could take a sip. Ianto’s intrigued look instantly fell to a frown, and he glared at Jack. Jack glared right on back.

“He’s four,” Jack said, sounding rather cross.

“He’s not going to like it,” Ianto said.

“He can’t have it!”

“He probably wouldn’t even drink it!”

“I would!” Ioan exclaimed. “I wanna try it!”

Jack gestured his free hand at Ioan, still glaring at Ianto. _“See?”_

“It’s too bitter—he’d take one sip and spit it out!”

“Then why give it to him?” Jack demanded.

“To let him figure it out on his own!”

Jack and Ianto continued to glare furiously at each other, and Ioan crossed his arms unhappily at his spot.

“Someday, _I’m_ gonna make da coffees,” he grumbled. “And den _you_ can’t have it.”

* * *

Ioan couldn’t do much more than a doggy paddle yet. That was all the more Jack had been allowed to teach him, back while Ianto had fretted from beside the pools and on the beaches. It had annoyed Jack to no end back then (because while he could understand Ianto’s worries perfectly fine, there was only one way to teach a kid how to swim, in his opinion, and Ianto wasn’t letting him) but now, he didn’t mind so much. All the other kids knew absolutely nothing.

Beside Jack, Ianto’s leg was bobbing up and down, anxiously mirroring the kids in the pool. He would stiffen every time Ioan’s head disappeared below the water, then ease slightly as Ioan’s head popped right back up. Jack watched the repetitive tensing and relaxing and the jittering leg out of the corner of his eye.

“He’ll be fine,” Jack murmured at one point.

“You don’t know that,” Ianto scoffed.

Jack discreetly took Ianto’s hand in his own.

“I do know,” Jack said. “He’s _your_ son.”

Ianto managed to tear his eyes from the water, looking over into Jack’s. Troubles rested in that piercing blue gaze, Jack noted, and he responded to it with a squeeze of Ianto’s hand. Ianto blinked, then looked away.

“Yeah, well,” he said, his eyes training on Ioan’s wet mop of hair. “That’s shit, when it comes to swimming.”

“You know what I meant.”

Ianto didn’t look any less worried.

As he clung to the edge of the pool, Ioan raised a hand and waved giddily at them. Jack smiled back, gently squeezing Ianto’s hand again.

* * *

The first time they had to use the inhaler was right on Ioan’s fifth birthday.

Ianto had stuck some candles in the cake, Jack had torched them, Ioan had indirectly inhaled the smoke…

Overall, the person most unfazed had been Ioan. Sure, he’d been panicked, but once the whole ordeal was over, he went on to eat his cake in peace. Ianto, on the other hand, was still sporting that frazzled expression of his as he allowed Ioan to steal a bit of his cake. Jack’s heart still raced slightly. He kept thinking about how this would happen, over and over and over again…

“How are you feeling?”

“You keep askin’ me that,” Ioan sighed. He licked his fork clean of frosting. 

“We just want to know if you’re okay,” Ianto said, swiping a stray fleck of purple from Ioan’s cheek with his thumb.

“I _am_ ,” Ioan said. “Said that already.”

“Sometimes, it’s okay to ask again and again,” Jack said. “If we’re really worried.”

“Stop bein’ worried then.”

Jack raised his eyebrows at the matter-of-fact tone. Ioan blinked up at him for a second more, expression mildly chiding, then turned back to the rest of his pilfered cake. Jack looked to Ianto, who rolled his eyes.

“James Bond doesn’t worry,” Ioan said. “James Bond is _cool_.”

“Hey,” Jack said, offended. “We’re cool, too.”

“Actually, James Bond _does_ get worried,” stated Ianto.

Jack threw him a scowl.

“Priorities,” he mouthed.

Ianto rolled his eyes again.

“No, he doesn’t!” Ioan said. “I _saw_ the movie. He wasn’t worried.”

“There’s more than one movie,” Ianto said. “So, yes, he does get worried.”

Jack shook his head to himself.

“There’s _more?”_ Ioan gasped. “Can we see those?”

“Later,” Ianto said. “When you’re older. Much older.”

This was pointedly directed at Jack, but Jack still refused to be sorry that he’d given Ioan the film.

“When I’m six?”

“Older than that.” Ianto brushed a curl back behind Ioan’s ear. “Finish your plate.”

“Mmmmmm,” Ioan hummed, tucking into the remainder of his cake.

* * *

Jack wasn’t much of one to nap, but Ianto couldn’t argue with fact. Jack _was_ napping; ergo, Jack _must_ nap.

Ianto figured it might have been the stressful day. For some reason, sending Ioan off for his first day of school was incredibly nerve-wracking. Much more so than a lot of things at Torchwood had been. If he thought about it, he’d maybe come to the conclusion that it was the different types of stress, presenting themselves in diverse ways. This stress was new. Perhaps that was what made it so shit.

He leant back further. Jack was taking up the entire sofa, so he had to sit on the floor, resting against it. Ioan slept on Jack’s chest.

“You awake?”

Ianto sat up and looked back. Jack looked expectantly up at him.

“Thought you were asleep.”

“I was,” Jack whispered. He stroked a hand down Ioan’s back. “Should’ve taken the hearing aids out.”

Ianto turned fully and moved over a bit, positioning himself by Ioan. He ran a hand through Ioan’s curls, letting them twist between his fingers.

“What are you doing?” Jack asked as Ianto looped the exposed hearing aid out of Ioan’s ear.

“He shouldn’t sleep with them in,” Ianto said. “Probably isn’t good for them.”

“He’ll need them back on in a bit.”

Ianto shook his head, popping the battery compartment out to turn the hearing aid off.

“He’s at home,” he said. “He’ll be alright.

Jack held out his hand and Ianto deposited the hearing aid in it. Then, as gently and lightly as possible, Ianto lifted Ioan’s head and turned it. Ioan groaned, digging his fingers into Jack’s shirt. Jack hissed in silently. Ianto set Ioan’s head back down carefully. He combed through Ioan’s hair, soothing the child back to a more peaceful sleep while he took the second hearing aid out.

He stood after he’d finished turning off the hearing aid, plucking the other from Jack’s hand. He bent back down to kiss Ioan’s forehead, and then Jack’s lips. He lingered over Jack for a moment, taking and giving all he could in the kiss. Jack smiled into it.

Ianto pressed a final quick kiss to Jack’s lips, straightened up, and headed to the bathroom to store the hearing aids away for the night.

* * *

Ianto silently fumed to himself as Jack helped Ioan brush his teeth.

Bloody UNIT, sticking their filthy little mitts everywhere. They didn’t need another person mucking about the Archives. Jack, Ianto, and Archie had been just fine. Nobody needed this arseho—this Mister Abbott.

“Daisy thinks thaaaaaat,” Ioan said as Jack cleaned the toothbrush, “we shouuuuld… um... go outside more. Like we did today!”

“No,” Ianto said.

“Maybe,” Jack said.

They sent each other confused frowns.

“We have to work,” Ianto said. “We can’t spend all the time outside.”

“But we can come up for breaks, occasionally,” Jack pointed out.

“Yeah, and then we can see more duckies!”

Jack’s eyes went wide and Ianto felt his heart skip a beat.

“I think those duckies went to another place after their bath,” Ianto fibbed quickly.

“Where?” Ioan’s face creased in disappointment.

“Not sure,” Jack said, equally unwilling to let Ioan know what their dinner had been. “But we won’t see them again.”

“Awwww…”

Ianto couldn’t look at the despair on Ioan’s face for more than a moment. And, by Jack’s expression, he wasn’t fairing much better, either.

“Tell you what,” Ianto said. “Sometime, when it’s a little warmer, we can go find a place where ducks live. Then you can sit with them.”

“Yessssss,” Ioan crowed.

Jack sent Ianto a confused look over Ioan’s head. Ianto shrugged. He hadn’t exactly planned to say that, but anything to get that look off of Ioan’s face…

“You’re just as much a suck-up as me,” Jack whispered to Ianto as they corralled Ioan to bed.

“Shut up.”

* * *

“Aaaaaaaaaaaah!”

“Put your feet down,” Jack told Ioan.

“Noooo,” he giggled.

“Come on, you like swimming!”

“This isn’t swimmin’! This is a _bath_!”

“Close enough,” Jack said.

Jack’s arms were growing tired from holding Ioan over the bathtub, and Ioan still refused to put his feet in, so Jack just plonked him down. Water splashed out of the tub.

Ianto came into the bathroom just then, so Jack quickly wiped away the puddles with the mat.

“He in yet?”

“Yes,” Jack said. He threw a mock glare at Ioan.

“Hmph,” Ioan pouted, though he didn’t look too displeased.

“Found the duck.” Ianto held the rubber bath duck aloft. “It was sitting by Stella the Bat.”

“Why was it there?” Jack asked Ioan.

Ioan shrugged his tiny shoulders. “I dunno. ‘Cause.”

Ianto rolled his eyes, plopping the duck into the tub.

“Get your hair wet,” he said.

“I wanna do it, I wanna do it!” Ioan cried as Jack made to grab the little liquid measuring cup that they’d for some reason decided was supposed to be used for dumping water over Ioan.

“Alright, fine,” Jack said.

Ioan threw his head forward into the water, and Jack darted forwards, slapping a hand over the faucet so that Ioan didn’t crack his head on it. He sighed as Ioan’s head just barely missed his hand.

Ianto sat down beside Jack as Ioan flipped his head back up, scattering water everywhere.

“Hey,” Ianto protested, and Ioan laughed. “This is supposed to be your bath, not ours.”

“Duckie’s bath too!” Ioan held the bright yellow duck up.

“Yes, just not _ours_ ,” Jack reiterated.

“Shampoo,” Ianto said, holding his hand out.

Jack passed him the bottle.

“Close your eyes,” Ianto told Ioan.

Ioan obediently scrunched his entire face up, and Ianto squirted some shampoo right onto his curls. Jack watched him rub the shampoo into Ioan’s scalp, Ioan going more and more boneless by the second, a smile breaking out on his face.

“Can you massage _me_ like that?” Jack murmured to Ianto.

Ianto elbowed him in the ribs.

* * *

With a frown, Ianto studied the bloodstain on the carpet. It wasn’t the first bloodstain he’d had to remove (far, _far_ from it, actually), but he really had hoped he’d never have to clean one again. Especially since his life didn’t _entail_ cleaning bloodstains anymore. In fact, bloodstain-cleaning was very much _not_ supposed to happen.

“Need help?”

Ianto shook his head with a sigh. “No. Just keep Ioan away.”

“Got it.” Jack kissed his cheek.

Jack left and Ianto got to work.

Carpet wasn’t his usual medium. No, that had generally been clothing. Mostly Jack’s greatcoat. That hadn’t needed to be scoured clean of blood in a _long_ time. Ianto was immensely grateful for that. Actually, the last stain Ianto had to clean from it was baby spit-up from… well. Six years ago.

Ianto sat the rag in his bucket, contemplative. Six years. Ioan was six years old now.

“Daaaaaad?”

And speak of the devil…

“Can I come in yet?” Ioan asked.

“Yes. Just don’t touch the wet spot.”

“Okay!”

Ioan zipped into the sitting room. He kept a respectful distance from the would-be-stain, ogling at it. That was all he did. Ianto rolled his eyes to himself. Really. Why was it that children just only ever wanted to be places and do things when they weren’t allowed?

“Can I see?” Ianto asked after a moment.

Ioan blinked up at him.

“Your teeth,” Ianto explained.

Ioan instantly grinned, displaying the large gap where his two foremost bottom teeth used to exist. Then he skipped over and threw his arms around Ianto. Ianto wrapped Ioan in an embrace and stood.

Six years old and still little enough to carry like this, he thought. A little _too_ little, but he was alright with that. He didn’t mind getting to hold Ioan longer than he would otherwise.

Ioan smooshed his face into Ianto’s neck.

“I’m _tired_ ,” he said, voice muffled by Ianto’s shirt.

“I know,” Ianto replied. “You had a long day.”

“Can we go to bed?”

“You’re actually begging to go to bed?” Ianto asked, incredulous.

“Tired,” Ioan repeated.

“You can’t go to bed yet!” Jack yelled from the kitchen.

Ianto frowned at the entryway to the sitting room until Jack appeared there.

“We have to burn the teeth,” Jack explained.

“You’re not serious,” Ianto said.

“Really?” Ioan squealed, pulling his head from Ianto’s shoulder. “Like… like on a fire?”

 _“No,”_ Ianto said sternly. “We’re not burning anything.”

“It’s tradition,” Jack said.

“Tradition is tooth fa—”

This time it was Jack to bark a firm “no!”

Ianto shut his mouth with a snap. Right. No fairies. This was a no-fairy family. Ianto instinctively held Ioan tighter at the idea of Ioan and fairies.

“Squishin’ me,” Ioan said.

Ianto kissed Ioan’s mop of hair, then set him down.

“Anything teeth-related can wait until tomorrow,” Ianto told both of them.

“Fine,” both Ioan and Jack said, respectively tired and resigned.

And Ianto ushered them out of the living room and away from the drying carpet.

* * *

Jack returned from Ioan’s bedroom with the newly dubbed “Myfanwy.” Ioan, who had been barely awake when he left, was now somewhat more aware, blinking up at Jack as he snuggled himself closer to Ianto, leaning back on him.

Ianto was sat up in bed and on the phone, which was probably what woke Ioan back up. Jack quietly stood in the door as Ianto spoke softly and firmly to whoever it was on the other end. Judging Ianto’s tone, it seemed to be UNIT. Brigadier Tate, most likely.

After a minute, Ianto handed the mobile out to Jack. Jack traded it for the plush pterosaur. Ianto then gave Myfanwy to Ioan, who cuddled with it instantly. Ianto himself pulled Ioan even closer. Jack longed to join, but he had a mobile in his hand.

“Tate!” he said.

“Don’t call me that. I was just wondering if Jones could look something over for me.”

“He can’t,” Jack said, eyeing Ianto and Ioan.

“So he said. I expect him to be on it tomorrow.”

“Understood.”

Then he hung up without a goodbye or anything similar. Tate didn’t really need one, in his book. They both knew when the conversation was over. What was the point in finishing it in some bullshit formal flourish? Best end it when it ended.

He set the mobile down on the bedside table, the crawled into bed beside Ianto.

“Daddy,” Ioan whined, reaching a hand for Jack.

Jack caught the hand in one of his own and rubbed the back of the tiny one with his thumb. He scooted beside Ianto, who rested his head on Jack’s shoulder. Jack kissed his head.

Ioan fell asleep against Ianto, so Jack and Ianto had to do a strange shuffle to get him lying down flat in bed. They tucked Myfanwy and Daisy on either side of the boy, and then Jack and Ianto themselves sandwiched those.

Jack reached a hand over, his fingers smoothing through Ianto’s hair. Ianto put an arm over Ioan, both tucking Ioan in even further and placing a hand on Jack’s side.

Neither of them planned to get out of bed.

* * *

The miserable day did not improve Ianto’s mood.

Both Jack and Ianto were sporting hats and gloves, which they each had admitted was… _strange_. Jack had never worn hats or gloves in the past. Ianto had donned gloves, but never a hat. But, if they wanted Ioan to keep his extremities, they now had to accept both in their daily lives.

Between them, Ioan was jumping his pavement cracks. Which, of course, meant they were travelling at a snail’s pace, and were going to absolutely be late for swimming lessons. And Ianto wasn’t counting on Miss Pritchard’s leniency this time.

Jack was clearly of the same mind, because he sighed and said, “Come on, kiddo, we’re going to be late.”

Ioan tilted his head up at Jack, and Ianto rolled his eyes to himself as Jack’s face instantly melted into a softer look.

“Do you want to miss swimming?” Jack asked him.

Ioan shook his head fervently, and Jack urged him again to pick up the pace.

And they did pick up a bit of speed. Somewhat. Barely. Not really.

“Can we get ice cream later?” Ioan asked.

“Ice cream?” Ianto asked.

“It’s cold out!” Jack said.

“Makes it taste better,” said Ioan. “Doesn’t melt that way.”

Jack laughed, which warmed Ianto’s chest somewhat. “Can’t argue with that logic, now, can I?”

“Swimming first,” Ianto told Ioan. “We’ll discuss the possibility of ice cream later.”

Ioan shrugged a little, then geared up to jump “The Big Crack.” Jack and Ianto raised their arms up a bit, allowing Ioan to soar through the air. His feet hit the pavement and he laughed.

Just as Ianto figured they might make it to the lesson on time, Jack stopped dead in his tracks. Ianto and Ioan had to stop, too, and Ianto scowled at Jack as he glanced around for some reason only known to him.

“Daddy?” Ioan asked, tugging at Jack.

“One moment, kid,” Jack said, sounding far away and distracted.

“We’re gonna be laaate!”

“Jack?” Ianto asked quietly. “What is it?”

“I don’t know…” Jack admitted after a moment. “It’s… I don’t know. I had a weird feeling.”

“What sort?” Ianto asked.

“It just…” He looked at Ianto, eyes wild beneath his frown. “It felt like… like something was wrong.”

Ianto studied him for a moment as he looked both up and down Ioan and Ianto, as if searching for something missing. Or possibly making sure they were still completely there. Jack did that, sometimes. Ianto had a few guesses why.

“Jack.”

Jack’s eyes snapped up to Ianto’s face. Ianto reached his free hand over to Jack’s arm, gently placing a hand there.

“We’re not going anywhere,” he promised. “Whatever it was, it was just a feeling.”

Jack opened his mouth to argue, then closed it and nodded, still keeping his eyes on Ianto’s face.

“We’re right beside you,” Ianto said. “Okay?”

Jack nodded again, relief flooding his face.

“Dad! Daddy!”

Ianto and Jack both looked down at Ioan, who was glaring up at both of them furiously.

“I don’t wanna be late!” he cried. “Can we go?”

“Yes, yes, we’re going,” Ianto said.

They turned to make their way forward again, but not before Jack and Ianto shared one last look. Ianto gave Jack a reassuring smile. Jack smiled back. It was forced, at first, but then it warmed into something real and happy. Ianto loved that look on him. It looked just right on Jack’s face.

“Come on,” Ianto said, “let’s go. Swimming to do.”

And the three of them made their way to Ioan’s swimming lesson.

**Author's Note:**

> That's all! Really done with this series now. Bye, baby Ioan...  
> Unedited.  
> Thank you for reading! Have a lovely day!


End file.
